


Trust me

by EnemiesWithBenefits



Series: self insert undertale [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Animalistic Sans, Blind Reader, Established Relationship, F/M, Growling, I really need to get a hold of myself, Knotting, Light Bondage, Porn Without Plot, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has a vagina, Smut, What have I done this time, bone zone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7790992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnemiesWithBenefits/pseuds/EnemiesWithBenefits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is it, Sans?” You feel him shift once more, almost as if he’s nervous. The hands on your knees rub in endless circles, thoughtless patterns from a thoughtful skeleton.</p><p>“i want to try something.” The gentle, soothing touch pauses, and you can feel the weight of his gaze much alike the weight of your legs in his lap. "you trust me, right?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust me

**Author's Note:**

> " _You love him - you really do._ "  
>  2566 words, 7 pages.

“Hm? Oh, hey Sans.” Giving away a lazy smile, you’re rewarded by the comforting pressure of Sans himself joining you on the couch. With a light hum, you feel familiar skeletal phalanges grab hold of your legs and lay them across the couch and into his lap. “Sans?” Your smile slips away when he doesn’t respond, and you blink despite the ever present darkness.

 

“hey babe.” Hearing his voice makes you smile again, and you sigh when he begins to massage your feet with comforting movements. The cool touch of solid bone never fails to surprise you, especially when he puts such focus into touching you like this. It’s nice and relaxing, and most importantly it makes you feel _safe._

“How was ‘work’?” You ask with sarcastic purpose as he pauses his task to either turn off or mute the TV. Whichever he does, you aren’t sure.

 

“what does _that_ mean?” You can hear his smile in the way it lights up his words, his touch returning to your feet. He’s slowly working his way upwards towards your ankle and calf.

 

“You know what it means, bonehead.” You laugh through your accusation, letting out another long sigh when he works at a particularly tense spot. “Mmm, right there, please.”

 

“oh, you mean here?” He goes back to your feet, and you whine with a light-hearted pout.

 

“ _C_ _’mon_ Sans-” You drag out his name and you’re rewarded with a familiar spine-shuddering laugh and his return to the previously tense spot. You sigh, sinking further into the couch, tempted to just roll your head back and fall asleep – he’s just _that_ good. There’s a content smile playing at your lips, your mind focused purely on the feel of his touch.

 

“work wasn’t bad.” Sans began, and you cocked your head to indicate you were listening. You loved this – your favorite part of the day was always when the skeleton brothers came home and told you of their misadventures, especially considering the fact you usually stick close to home. “saw the kid-”

 

“Frisk?” You perk up, and his hands pause, resting on your calves. “How are they?”

 

“they’re fine.” You feel him shift, laying back on the other end of the couch as he rubs against your skin, mesmerized by the feel of it. It’s nothing you aren’t used to, coming from either of the skeleton brothers. “gettin’ taller than you by now,” He teases, and you snort, not believing him. You may be blind, but you're not _stupid._ Frisk couldn’t possibly be that tall already – could they? “don’t believe me, do ya?”

 

Well, he caught you red-handed.  "They barely came up to my waist a few years ago.”

 

“ _years,_ babe. they’ve grown fast.” He laughs, and you know he’s about to tease you again. “and you’ve barely grown an inch. you’re so _small._ ”

 

“Compared to you and Paps – yeah!” It’s a weak defense, considering just how _big_ most monsters are. You cross your arms over your chest, sighing. You aren’t _really_ annoyed, but it is a bit weird considering how much time's passed. It really shouldn’t surprise you with how big Frisk is getting – you just refuse to accept the child you’d helped so few years ago is growing up so quickly.

 

“everythin’ okay, doll?” Sans must’ve noticed your change in mood, and you smile forlornly to try and reassure him.

 

“Yeah. It’s just – wow. I can’t believe how long it’s been. I mean, it hasn’t been _that_ long, but it feels like a long time. So much has happened – and now, here we are. Frisk is starting high school soon, and shooting up like a bean sprout in the meantime. You and Alphys got your degrees accredited finally,  Monsters earned equal rights barely a month ago – including rights to marriage. It’s just…”

 

“i know,” Something in his voice tells you he’s just as awed as you are, if not more so, the gentle touch on your calves starting to rise toward your knees. “it’s pretty great, huh?”

 

“ _Tibia_ honest,” You throw him a shameless grin. “I’d say it’s pretty _Sans-sational._ ”

 

With a laugh, he pauses, and you can tell there’s something else he wants to say. Not being able to see has its benefits – and after living with Sans and Papyrus for quite so long, you know them like the back of your hand.

 

“What is it, Sans?” You feel him shift once more, almost as if he’s nervous. The hands on your knees rub in endless circles, thoughtless patterns from a thoughtful skeleton.

 

“i want to try something.” The gentle, soothing touch pauses, and you can feel the weight of his gaze much alike the weight of your legs in his lap. "you trust me, right?"

 

The way he asks makes you pause - it's as if he thinks you _aren't_ going to say yes. How could you not, with everything the two of you have shared with one other? It's almost insulting, but you chalk it up to his insecurities and give him a patient, warm smile that makes his grip on your knees tense.

 

"Of course, Sans. Why wouldn't I?" There's a long pause, and you know he's thinking of everything he feels he's ever done wrong - and you suddenly regret your word choice. "Sans," leaning forward, you place your hand upon his own, trying to reassure him. "please, don't do that."

 

"do what?"

 

You're silent, because it should be obvious. Then again, maybe it's not. For Sans, self-deprecating is as easy as breathing. Which is ironic, you suppose, since he doesn't _need_ to breathe but still does.

 

"Sans, I've told you before that I love you, both you _and_ Papyrus. Do you think I would still be here if I didn't?" Your thoughts turn to some of your more intimate moments with the brothers and you pause. "After everything we've done together?"

 

He doesn't say anything, but the hand below your own is suddenly intertwined with yours.

 

"Sans, you know how I feel about you - even after you told me about the resets, Gaster, _everything._ For every mistake you see, I see strength. I see bravery, compassion, and love." You pause, listening in as Sans lets out a rattling breath. It was moments like these you wished you could see him, wanting nothing more than to see the beauty that you're certain he is. "Honestly, Sans. I trust you with my Soul."

 

There's a long moment where Sans doesn't say anything, the only sound throughout the entire house the soft buzz of electricity, the rustle of fabric as you breathe, and your heartbeat, lulling and steady in your ears. There’s something else, however – something familiar and enticing, building static in the air akin to the press of skin against the screen of an old TV.

 

Magic.

 

You don’t have much warning before Sans is on top of you, the comfortable press of his weight spread across your now lying form. The sudden use of magic leaves a metallic taste in your mouth, but you ignore the bitter flavor in favor of smiling as Sans presses himself onto you. It’s not hard to tell he’s turned on – you can feel the hard press of his cock through his shorts stiff against your legs.

 

“Sans?” He’s holding your hands high above your head against the arm rest of the couch, the smooth curve of his smile against your neck as you feel him breathe you in. It’s a strange sensation, nothing less than stimulating as his free hand cups your cheek.

 

“why you gotta say shit like that, huh?” His voice is a lot deeper than normal, a vibration that you can feel almost down to your bones. Without warning the grip on your wrists turns painfully tight, his hips bucking into your own. You honestly hadn’t expected this out of what seemed such a serious topic, but despite Sans’ nihilistic tendency to ignore his feelings, he’s definitely a romantic at heart much like his brother, only less clueless and more shy. It’s a nice contrast.

 

“Say what?” You ask, voice soft in comparison to his near deep growl. You don’t sound weak however – out of the two of you, you’re probably the one more held together at the moment.

 

“you _know_ what.” This time, when he brings his pelvis against your own, you both choke down on your own sounds – from Sans, a long moan that pulls from the back of his throat, and from you, a soft keening whine that tries to tear its way out of you.

 

“Oh?” You ask, feeling more than a little brave and in control, par the fact he’s not only on top of you and holding you still, but also much bigger than you too. “About my soul?” You ask, and his breath catches, almost as if the sheer mention of your soul alone is the most sexual thing you could possibly say to turn him on.

 

You lean your head down enough to where your lips touch against the press of his own carved smile, the two of you a hairs-width apart.

 

“About how it’s _yours?_ ”

 

And then there’s teeth and tongue – the hot press of your mouths against one another as the two of you swallow each other’s noises like a deaf man first hearing sound. It’s not perfect, it’s sloppy and messy and Sans manages to nip your lower lip with sharp canines so hard there’s the taste of blood in your mouth but that only makes it all the better.

 

He growls when he tastes your blood, and you know it’s nothing less than primal when he begins to rut against you, unhinged and barely holding on to any kind of control. You know by now that there’s no way he’s going easy on you tonight – part of you is still surprised he hasn’t started fucking you yet with how animalistic he’s getting.

 

“fuck – i was gonna talk ‘bout – _shit_ _–_ tryin’ somethin’ new – but right now I just need to feel you, babe,” His voice is hot against your ear, and you try not to feel the way the poorly made couch digs against your skin and the way his bones chafe against your wrists. There’s really no deterring him when he gets like this, but it’s not like you want it any different, anyways. With a sharp nip to your ear, you feel him start pressing his entire body into his rutting, the thick press of his cock between both sets of your clothes beginning to strike your soaking core.

 

“you want me, right? want me to fuck you, doll? mark you like your mine, huh?” He growls, and you can’t help the pathetic whining that pulls from you, unable to do much but start bucking up into his thrusts, feeling yourself start to climb higher towards your peak. “Right? because it’s true babe – _fuck_ _–_ mind, body, _soul_ – you’re _mine._ ”

“Sans – Sans _please-_ ” He cuts you off with another forceful kiss, and with one, two, three more bucks of his hips you come undone with a sharp cry of his name. It’s nothing less than beautiful as you fall apart, the domineering monster above rutting against you through your orgasm. You know he hasn’t come yet, and it’s no surprise when he suddenly flips you over with your ass in the air and your head pressed against the couch cushions.

 

You really wish this wasn’t happening _here,_ but it’s happening, and it feels fucking _fantastic._

“stars, you’re so fuckin beautiful, y’know that, right?” You whine as you feel him pull away your shorts and underwear, your shirt hanging loosely near your chest, a gentle touch running along the curve of your ass. It’s nothing less than gentle compared to his rough fucking from before, and you know it won’t be long until he loses himself once more.

 

“Sans – fuck, please, _please-_ ” You really can’t do much more than beg, considering just how helpless you feel, how _fucked._ The sensation of his magic, thick and heady is nothing less than an aphrodisiac, sparking against your flesh and reaching deep within you all the way to your soul.

 

“what?” He asks, voice light and almost desperate. “what-what do you want? what is it, babe? fuck, _what?_ ”

 

“Sans – just fuck me already – _please._ ”

 

Without any warning you can feel him hilt within you – he must’ve freed himself from his shorts sometime when he’d been talking – the sudden intrusion eased by your previous orgasm. It’s nothing less than a surprise considering the fact it’s the first time he’s touched you there all night, but you don’t mind at all.

 

You can feel him leaning over you, fangs scratching against your back as he pauses just long enough to catch his breath. You want him to start fucking you already, but you know better than to rush him. The punishment wouldn’t be worth it.

 

It isn’t long until the monster above you grows inpatient, cock twitching pleasurably within your cunt. He fits inside you better than anything else – it’s corny to say, but he’s perfect. With a quick jerk of his hips he pushes further into you, making you whimper when he brushes against your g-spot. The sound entices him, and it isn’t much longer until he gives in, fucking you ruthlessly.

 

“ _Sans-_ ” His name, nothing less than a mantra, spills from your lips. The sound alone absolutely _destroys_ him, and he can’t help but lose any semblance of control. His phalanges grip your hips tight, pelvis smashing against your ass, ribcage chaffing against your back. You can feel the hot air of his breathing as he pants above you, the low rumble in his chest and pleasant buzz of his magic making you nearly lose your mind.

 

“mine _._ ” He’s nearly hitting your cervix now, the base of his cock beginning to swell. “mine, mine, mine, _mine, mine, mine-_ ”

 

You say his name again and he snaps, bending enough to bite your shoulder, the grip on your hips breaking the skin. You can feel the way he knots within you, shooting hot cum into your cunt. He continues to sloppily thrust throughout his orgasm and you follow soon after, crying out and thrashing against him.

 

Worn ragged and unable to do much other than breathe and just _be,_ you feel yourself shift to where Sans is holding you to his front, his back to the back of the couch as the both of you lie there. He’s still knotted within you and every so often you can feel him twitch, the feeling of being _full_ nothing less than enticing.

 

Sans hums against your neck as you come down from your high, trying desperately to regain some semblance of mind. One of his arms are beneath you, holding you close, while the one slung over you soothes over the bruising skin of your hips. You can’t help but love this – every part of this entire encounter, even if you’re starting to nod off.

 

“Sans?” Your voice breaks midway through his name and you can feel him shift against you, and you know he heard you. He must be drifting off as well. “Didn’t… you want to-” You yawn, and sensing your question, he interrupts you.

 

“’s not important right now. get some sleep, babe.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and the throb of his cock within you makes you deliriously happy. “you’re gonna need it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This 's something I've been working on in my freetime. There's like, two other smutshots in my Drive that I'm working on, so expect more sin! There also might be a second chapter of this sometime soon, but don't wait up haha!
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr.](http://scripttura.tumblr.com/)


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